


Nail

by Drixel



Series: Rowvember 2019 [5]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Photographs, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 23:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21400579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drixel/pseuds/Drixel
Summary: Photographs wont hang themselves.
Relationships: Female Boss (Saints Row)/Johnny Gat
Series: Rowvember 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533092
Kudos: 8





	Nail

**Author's Note:**

> Rowvember day 11

"Ow, fuck!" Johnny muttered, sticking his thumb in his mouth as the nail clattered to the floor. 

Em chuckled, standing on tiptoes to hang up yet another photo-frame on one of the many nails protruding from the wall. "Careful."

Johnny rolled his eyes at her, bending down to pick the nail up. "Why're we even doing this? S'not like this place it real."

It was true. They were in a smallish house Em had been pestered Matt and Kinzie to code into the sim for weeks, and now that Zinyak was dead, they'd finally got around to doing so. It'd come unfurnished, un-decorated and with TARDIS like properties. Enough room for everyone on the ship, and enough work to be considered a family project.

"This is the closest we're ever gonna get to a family home, but fuck me for trying to be domestic I guess." She said, an edge to her voice, as she adjusted her glasses and the photograph. It was one of her favourites, a picture of her, Johnny, Scout, and Stevie. They were all smiling, like every other family photo she'd been in, but it was the first family picture Em had ever had where every smile had been genuine. 

Disjointed warmth, the way only a simulation could provide, wrapped it's way around her stomach in a loose hug as Johnny nuzzled his face her shoulder. He knew he struck a particular nerve, one he tended to forget she had. She rubbed a thumb over his hand, leaning into the hug, before patting his arm. 

"C'mon Badger Boy, those photo's aren't gonna hang themselves."

Johnny opened his mouth to say something, probably an apology, but she cut him off before he could say anything with a quick kiss to the cheek, her way of saying she knew he meant no harm.

Em could hardly remember a time when they couldn't read each other. From gestures big to small, they understood them all. To say they were open books, however, would be to equivalate a candle to a firework. No, they were more like private journals, to which the other held the key.

Another nail in the wall, another photo up on display.

* * *

Em loved her photo wall.

From the photo-strip she got of her, Shaundi and Pierce from a mall photo booth to the professionally shot photo of her presidential cabinet, to the picture taken from an old Polaroid Matt found, she loved them all.

But there were still photos missing.

Which was probably why Johnny was breathing over Kinzie's shoulder at that particular moment.

"I'll find them when I find them-"

"You found pictures of my family real fucking quick when she asked."

"You had continuous contact with your family up until your death. It was easy to follow the metaphorical paper trail. She hasn't even spoken to most of family since she got kicked out for joining the Saints, and even then, it was through letters. Letters!"

A finger jabbed at the screen. "Those guys right there."

Kinzie looked at him skeptically. On the screen before them was what looked like a well adjusted family. A blond man, his blonde wife and their two blonde children, in semi-matching outfits of powder blue and salmon pink. A far-cry from the unconventional family Em had made for herself. 

Em was currently preoccupied with said unconventional family at that given moment, Stevie being cradled in her arms, tears and snot dripping down her face, as she lectured Pierce and Asha about getting a little too rough with the roughhousing whilst Scout was clinging to her leg, reaching for C.I.D, and babbling on about, Nightblayde? Whilst Keith and Ben discussed something in the corner, occasionally chipping into the lecture or something, cause every time they did Pierce and Asha just looked more ashamed. He shook his head fondly at the scene.

Kinzie look back at the screen "Are you sure they're related to her?"

"Believe me, I've met them."

* * *

Em hated Christmas.

She also hated her birthday.

Probably because they were the same day.

But everyone else in her life were avid celebrators of such a holiday, however, that when it came down to a majority vote, she lost in a landslide.

So there she was, on their living room sofa as the room was decked out in silver and blue ornaments (Because red and green would clash horribly Johnny, I don't give a fuck if it's traditional you guys are lucky I'm letting you celebrate it at all at least have it match-), wearing her standard 'bah humbug' ugly Christmas sweater she's been made to wear every year since the first Christmas she had with the Saints, with something non-alcoholic (not that alcohol would even affect her in the sim Ben, are you listening Ben I'm serious, it's just pixels) because of the gently protruding mass that was the fetus growing in her womb, as she watched Shaundi open her gift.

It didn't top the first gift she'd ever got her, but she was sure a personalised fresh-water rare purple pearl bracelet could be a close second.

"Fucking hell Boss. How much did you drop on this?" Shaundi asked in awe, sliding it onto her wrist carefully. Em simply waved her hand. "The devil's in the detail Sweetie, don't worry about it."

She'd done well with presents this year. Even Asha was looking vaguely touched by her gift of a sterling silver guardian heart.

Of course the present's she'd received had been excellent as well. She was particularly fond of the eye mask Keith had gotten her, the words 'Fuck Off' emblazoned on in purple sequins.

But that was the gift giving over. So now they could fuck off to do their own things, and she could go back to forgetting this day existed until dinner.

So why was Johnny sliding one last present over to her?

"Just open it." 

She rolled her eyes, tearing open the cheap paper recklessly. Too recklessly, as what must've been at least fifty photographs spilled into her lap. Em furrowed her brow as she picked up the first one, before the shock started to set in.

It was of her brother and his wife, on their wedding day. The next one was of a different brother, holding his infant daughter in hospital, happy tears streaming down his face. All of the photographs posed similar situations. Of brothers and sisters at weddings, with babies. Of nieces and nephews learning to walk, talk and tumble. First days of kindergarten, to first days of school.

She looked at Johnny, teary eye and smiling. Her voice cracked as she ushered out a quiet thank you.

"Kinzie helped me get them."

"Think nothing of it." Kinzie cut in quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the prospect of anyone crying. Em merely nodded, smiling gratefully at her.

Everyone quickly dispersed after that, leaving Em and Johnny alone.

"I missed so much." she whispered, gazing at the pictures, tears now falling freely that there was only Johnny. "I miss _them_ so much."

"I know." Johnny said, pulling her into a gentle hug, wiping the tears from his face as he went. The now familiar sound of hollow plastic crashing to the floor came from upstairs, followed by a joyful shriek. Johnny smiled fondly at the sound. Their kids were really something weren't they.

"Happy birthday." 

"I love you so much."

* * *

Johnny found her the next day with nails hanging from her mouth, hammering them one by one into the wall, with a pile of photo frames at her feet.

"Be careful you don't hit yourself."

"What?"

BANG

"Ow, fuck!"


End file.
